Hank Note: King of the Kill
by Beanstalks
Summary: Hank Hill uses a Death Note to rid the world of the asinine. It's up to Dale to put a stop to the mysterious murders in Arlen.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Keep it a one-shot? Or write a novel-length adventure?**

_Everyone's a jackass._

_That's just asinine._

_Surrounded by fools..._

"This world is rotten, I tell you what," Hank said to himself, a sly grin on his face.

He put his pencil down and closed his Death Note. As he got up he noticed his reflection in the mirror.

And saw his grin.

His smile gone and his eyes wide with horror, he stuffed the Death Note in the desk and left Peggy's office.

"This world is rotten," he mumbled. "I'm doing what any good American would do."

The family had just finished dinner. They gathered around the television in the livingroom. Bobby flipped through channels while Peggy thumbed through a copy of the _Arlen Bystander_.

Hank noted several bits from the channels:

_"Vaya con dios."_

_"Hehehehe, propane."_

_"D'oh!"_

_"I'll take a potato chip...AND EAT IT!"_

_"...Thatherton of _Thatherton Fuels_..."_

"Wait, Bobby," Hank said stiffly. "Turn it back a channel."

"Okay," Bobby said, with very little hesitation.

_"...Was found dead this afternoon," _Nancy Gribble said. She was next to a fellow anchor, a man with a mustache and glasses. _"Cause appears to be from cardiac arrest or heart attack. No foul play is suspected. Back to you, Bill."_

_"Thank you, Nancy," the man said. He threw off his glasses in an overly-dramatic fashion. "Pandas: peaceful giants or bloodthirsty killers? After these commercials we'll show you shocking footage from the _Arlen Zoo_."_

Hank got up and turned off the T.V. "Can you believe this?" he said, showing no emotion.

"Uh-huh," Peggy murmered. "I knew those pandas were too cute to be trusted.

"No, about Thaterton."

"It's sad?" Bobby guessed. "Right?"

"Er, right." Hank turned away from Bobby.

"What's the big deal about that?" Peggy asked. "He's a bad man and Strickland's biggest competitor. I say, 'good riddance!' May he rest in peace."

"It's just sad knowing we'll never see him again," Hank said, trying to stifle a wicked laugh.

Peggy and Bobby just stared at him.

Dale had watched the news report too.

He grunted and put M.F. Thatherton's picture on a board. The board included pictured of Khan Souphanousinphone and Cotton Hill. "It doesn't make sense!" Dale roared. "Who would have a grudge against these guys? Let's look at the facts: everybody hates Khan, so anyone could have killed him. Thatherton is less than trustworthy, so anyone could have killed him, too. "Cotton Hill! Everybody had a grudge against him, sure. But who had the biggest grudge?" "Peggy Hill," he concluded. "And she probably killed Thatherton to help Hank...or incriminate him." He fed his turtles and pondered, "But how?"

Hank was having a nightmare. In his nightmare, ghoulish versions of Khan were shooting out of the ground. Hank was running, but one Khan grabbed his leg and screamed, "You killed me, stupid redneck!" Hank woke up. He lurched foreward and let out a terrified "BWAHHH!" "Bad dreams again, Hank?" Peggy asked in a drowzy voice. "Yep, that's it," Hank said. He faked a yawn. "Just...a bad dream. Goodnight, Peggy." "G'night, Hank." _This world is rotten_, Hank thought. _I will reshape the world into one without jackasses. And I will be the god of this world, I tell you what. Yep._


	2. Chapter 2

Hank opened his front door to see Dale: smoking, his hands and his pockets and his right leg in front of his left.

"Dale," Hank nodded. "Want do you want? Because I need to use my ladder today. All of them."

"And I'll bring your saw back _next time_, I _plomise_," Dale whined.

"Plomise?"

"Uh... So anyway, I suspect Peggy of killing Thatherton."

Inside Hank was a horrible storm of worry. Dale was getting too close.

But on the outside Hank was composed.

"Dale, you giblet-head!" Hank snapped. "How dare you call my wife a murderer."

Dale backed away. "Sorry, Hank-"

"This...is more stupid than the time you bought alien urine."

"Well-"

"More stupid than Joseph being an alien, or you being an Injun."

"Hey, that was-"

"Dale, get off my property. I'll see you in the alley after work."

Dale stomped a foot on Hanks lawn and said, "Take that as a warning. Tell Peggy that if she doesn't stop killing, I'll do it again."

Hank chased Dale off his property. Dale ran up a fence and got his belt stuck against a spike.

* * *

Hank sat at his desk at work, writing in his Death Note.

_I hate taking breaks,_ Hank thought. _But I have to make sacrifices to make a better, efficient, clean-burning world._

Strickland opened the door to Hanks office and saw him cackling.

"Uh, what's so funny, Ol' Top?" Strickland asked nervously.

Hank stopped cackling, cleared his throat and said, "Uh, nothing, sir. Just... laughing at a joke the wife told me."

"Well, can I hear it?"

"...No."

"Alright then."

Hank cleared his throat and started to think: if Dale could get so close to the truth, what's stopping real authorities from doing so?

Killing people magically with a little book? Ha! Like the authorities would believe that!

But he needed to draw suspicion away from him. And Strickland Propane...

* * *

Strickland slinked out and slammed the door shut.

"What's wrong, honey?" Joe Jack asked.

"Hank's still acting weird," Strickland whispered. "To be honest, he's starting to freak me out."

"Yeah," Enrique agreed. "He _almost never _took breaks. He's starting to act..."

"Like a regular person?" Joe Jack chuckled. "Honey, Hank's finally learning not to be so uptight!"

"He _should _loosen up," Strickland agreed. "If I offered him two weeks off with a big raise, he'd refuse!"

"Oh, boy!" Joe Jack said, grabbing at his chest.

He started to sweat. He stumbled out of his chair and threw up on the floor before collapsing.

"Huh," Strickland said. "Not at all like that Sanford fellow."

Hank ran out of his office and said, "What's wrong? I head a noise."

"Hank, call an ambulance for Joe Jack!"

"Oh, no!"

* * *

"How was work, sug?" Nancy asked her husband as he came through the door. "You're home early."

"I didn't go to work."

"And why not, sug? Government spying on you again?"

"Maybe. But I had to pick some people up at the airport. By the way, they're staying over."

Nancy, now annoyed, said, "And you didn't ask me before this?"

"I knew that if I asked you, you would have said no!"

"Well, who are they, huh? Family?"

"Nope!"

Dale ran out the door. He returned later with two people.

"This is Watari," Dale said, motioning to the older man with the mustache. "He's a detective."

"Actually," Watari began.

"And this is his loyal servant and sidekick, Ryuzaki."

Dale motioned to the young man with dark hair, no shoes or socks, with dark rings under his eyes.

"Uh, Ryuzaki?" Nancy asked. "Did you happen to forget your shoes?"

Ryuzaki started to speak in Japanese.

"I can't understand any of his gobbledygook," Dale told his wife.

"He said that he doesn't own a pair of shoes," Watari translated. "He also says you're a beautiful woman."

"Why thank you, Ryuzaki, Watari! Dale, can I speak with you in the bathroom?"

Before Dale could say anything, Nancy dragged him away.

"Are you bringing homeless people here again?" Nancy snapped. "Don't you remember what happened the last two times?"

"Hey, the first one really _was _an alien, I know it!" Dale said indignantly. "And they're really famous detectives from Japan. I even did the research."

Nancy sighed and rubbed her hands on her forehead.

* * *

"What was that all about?" Watari asked his ally.

"I'm just having fun," _Ryuzaki _said with a sneer.

"This is some sort of test, isn't it?"

"I want to see what Mr. Gribble is capable of. He may be the most brilliant detective, and my future replacement."

"And what if he's just some delusional buffoon?"

"We're already getting information from him, so we just play along until we get what we want."

"Indeed."

* * *

"It wasn't at all like the T.V. showed it!" Strickland said to his employees.

Paramedics pronounced Joe Jack dead on the scene. The paramedics left with his body not five minutes ago.

"Television is rarely accurate," Hank said with a sigh. "Hey, did anybody watch the game last night?"

"There was no game on last night," Enrique told him.

"I was, uh...talking about baseball?"

Everyone looked at him.

"So anyway," Strickland said. "It's kind of weird that Joe Jack had a heart-"

"It was a real good game."

"Not now, Ol' Top! It's just kind of weird that Joe Jack died the same way as Thatherton and that Laramie & Daughters guy died."

"But Joe Jack wasn't exactly in the best of shape."

"Good point..."

"Hey, isn't it funny that there are so many people dying of heart attacks?" Enrique said. "Besides Hank's dad and neighbor-"

"My dad was an old man!" Hank snapped. "And Khan must have been overworked. He was always yellin' and screamin' at everyone."

"Most of these people work in propane."

"Does that mean propane kills people?" Donna asked. "Propane gives people heart attacks?"

Employees started to murmur amongst each other until Strickland said, "Naw, that's just rubbish."

"Mr. Strickland's right," Hank said reasonably. "It's probably just a big coincidence and we should leave it at that. A coincidence."

"Maybe not," Roger said. "My mom said that this...big black monster-"

"Your dad," Enrique laughed.

"Hey, that's racist!"

Everyone admonished Enrique, who apologized and sunk in his seat.

Roger went on, "...This big black monster visited her and offered her the power to kill people."

"Well, did she take the offer?" Strickland asked.

"No, of course not! Only a monster would kill people."

Hank gulped nervously.

"Of course, she was probably making it up. Damn story used to scare me when I was a kid."

_Big black monster_, Hank thought to himself. _Got dang._


	3. Chapter 3: Rusalka

Light locked his room door and smiled.

_Excellent_, he thought. _With L out of the way for now, I can run rampant with the Death Note._

He undid some traps and dug into the desk drawer.

"That's odd," Light said to himself. "Where's the Death Note?"

* * *

Dale fed his turtles as he talked, "Gentlemen, I am glad to have your help."

He, Ryuzaki, Watari and a man named Octavio were in Dale's basement. They watched Dale from their chairs, which were in a semi-circle.

Ryuzaki started to shriek in Japanese.

"What does he want now?" Dale whined.

"He would like to know if he may have some candy, Mr. Gribble," Watari said.

"Moshi moshi, kawaii desu ne," Ryuzaki said with a smile.

"He asked nicely, honorable Mr. Gribble-san."

"Aw, he knows my name!" Dale said warmly. He called up the stairs, "Nancy! Nancy, bring us some candy!"

"What?" Nanyc called back.

"Candy!"

"Oh, okay, sug."

"Nancy says that as long as you don't cause any trouble and I go to work every day, we can all work this out," Dale said to the group.

"Thank you, thank you," Ryuzaki said with a thick Asian accent. "Konichiwah!"

"What about my mother?"

"Uh...kawaii desu...ne?"

"That's what I thought you said."

He couldn't tell, but Ryuzaki felt Dale stare holes through him through his sunglasses.

* * *

Bobby Hill and Joseph Gribble were riding their bikes outside of the Gribble home.

"So what's your dad doing now?" Bobby asked. "Who was that sharp-dressed man, and that...other man?"

"Watery and Rusalka, I think that's what they're called?" Joseph mused. "Oh, they're here to help my dad figure out who's murdering people."

"Murder?"

"Yeah, my dad says that someone is killing people by somehow giving them heart attacks."

Bobby scoffed. "Get real, Joseph. Do you honestly believe that?"

"Yeah, I do! My dad said so, and thoseare famous Japanese...or British or whatever...detectives!"

"And you believed him? My dad says that no one is being killed magically."

"Well, do you have a better explanation?"

"My mom says that everybody just eats too much and they're all unhealthy-"

"And you _believe _a suspect."

"Yeah, 'cuz... Oh, God."

"Hey, what ever happened to Connie?"

"I don't know - she's been going to school, but I never see her during lunch and she never talks in the halls."

"She must still be bummed that your mother killed her."

"That's not true... My mom would have killed her mother."

"Oooh, good point! Your _dad _would most likely kill her dad."

"My dad? Kill someone?"

The two boys laughed.

Joseph added, "Good one! Your grandpa, maybe. But he's dead now."

"Hehe, yeah..."

* * *

Connie stopped watching the boys from her window and continued to drown her sorrows with violin practice.

Her mom walked in and said, "Connie, wouldn't you like to take a brake and go get some tofu?"

"No thank you, Ma," Connie said. "I want to practice."

"But you've been ignoring people ever since your daddy died. Maybe you should get out and-"

"I'm _fine_, mother!"

"Okay, okay! _Yeesh_."

* * *

Dale finished his Mountain Dew and said, "Well, I gotta go to the washroom. Now now, but it'll take about six minutes to take the alarm off the washroom door, so I'm going in advance."

And with that, he ran up the stairs.

A moment later, Ryuzaki started to whine and cry, waving his arms erratically.

"What's wrong with him?" Octavio asked.

"Oh, he needs to use the washroom," Watari asked. "Do you mind guiding him?"

"Gribble trusted me with the codes to the washrooms; I know he wouldn't want me to, uh, betray his trust. And stuff."

Ryuzaki started to roll towards a corner and started to cry. He hid his front and arms from the other two.

"Is he...special, or something?" Octavio asked Watari.

"Yes," Watari said. "He's my, uh, foster kid. Mind of a four-year-old."

"Okay, I understand, I guess. Come on, buddy."

Ryuzaki jumped up and gave Watari a big hug.

Watari felt as Ryuzaki slipped him a piece of paper.

Octavio held Ryuzaki's hand and led him up the stairs.

When Watari was sure we was alone, he opened the paper and read:

_Search the cabinets. There's a camera in every top corner - block those out._

Watari crumpled the note and noticed four small cameras. One was sparking and clearly in very bad shape.

Watari threw a can of Mountain Dew at one camera, breaking the lens. He pretended to slip on something, to show the camera that this was all an accident.

He covered another camera with a handkerchief he had, then hid from the last camera's sight.

Finally, he started to dig through Dale's desk's cabinets. It was barely a problem of undoing the mediocre traps installed.

"Walrus-men, aliens," Watari read through. "How ridiculous! And to think, L believes this man is a genius."

"And this L is right," came a voice. "Whoever he is."

Watari turned to see Dale at the top of the stairs.

"I saw you on the cameras," Dale said. "Not the cameras you carelessly broke, you clumsy oaf!"

Watari started to stammer in shock.

"Luckily, I had other cameras hidden here," Dale continued. "And from what I saw in my _other _secret base, I learned. And I learned that _you_..."

Watari gulped.

"...are a terrible detective! And to think, I thought Roozyzachy was the slave. He has to keep _you _from messing up!"

"That's right!" Watari agreed. "L is the real detective."

"And you were turning against your own friend and boss to do _this_. I'd kick you out, but you're the only one who can understand the kid."

"Thank you, sir," Watari said with a bow. "I will avoid doing this mistrustful acts again in the future."

"Make it so, old chap. You're so lucky to have a boss kind and caring enough to keep a lying, sneaky and clumsy oaf like you!"

Watari bowed again.

"Dale took a fighting stance and said, "If that happens again, you get a fist of _monkey-style! _Sh-sh-sha!"

"I'm so sorry, Mr. Gribble," Watari said with another bow.

_Was this all part of your plan, L? _Watari thought.


	4. Chapter 4

Nancy looked up from her coffee to see Octavio and that young detective enter the living room.

"Mrs. Gribble," Octavio nodded towards her.

"Octavio," Nancy said, returning the nod.

She noticed the two holding hands. Ryuzaki gave her a coy smile and winked as Octavio led him downstairs.

When Hank got home, he quickly hid himself in Peggy's office. He took the Death Note out, opened it carefully and put it on the desk.

"Good Lord, I've done terrible things," he muttered. "But...I just do what I have to do."

"So you do," came a gruff voice. "That's the way it is!"

A grissly monster with black clothing came through the desk like a ghost.

"Bwah!" Hank gasped as he backed away. He was not looking at the monster that towered above him.

The creature laughed wickedly.

"Shut up, Ryuk!" Hank Hill snapped. "Stop laughing, or else I kick your ass!"

"Alright, alright!" Ryuk snickered. He walked over to Hank's side. "I'm just having a little fun. It's almost Halloween, you know."

"You're a jerk, I tell you what," Hank said sternly. "Now, have you done the job or not?"

"I'm not here to help you," Ryuk said. "I'm here to watch the fun."

"Yeah, well, if you want those apples, you better tell me that you killed those Thatherton workers."

"I did, I did. I killed a man and a woman at the Thatherton across the street from your work. A man from another branch was visiting, and I killed the three yesterday morning."

"Ryuk, you gibblet-head!"  
"What?"

"You can't kill them all at the same, and at the same place; it'll look suspicious."

Hank sighed and said, "At least you killed them in different ways, right?"

Ryuk shrugged and said, "...Yeah, about that...Sorry."

There was a knock at the door. "Hank," came his wife Peggy's voice. "Hank, can I come in?"

"Yep," Hank said. He quickly grabbed the Death Note and his it behind him.

Peggy walked in and said, "Hank, who are you talking to?"

"No one. I was, uh, praying."

"Praying?"

"Yep, praying."

"Hmm...Wall, alright. So listen: I am on the planning commity a party at Bobby's school! Near the end of this month, Bobby Hill and his friends will have an authentic Mexican Day of the Dead dance!"

"Uh, Peggy...You know that the Day of the-"

"Not now, Hank. I think, as a Spanish-speaking, Spanish-speaking substitute teacher of the year, three years _in a row _knows _a little more _out Mexican holidays."

"Yeah..."

"What I want you to do is..."

"Yeah, uh-huh..." Hank clutched the note book tight, hoping Peggy wouldn't see it behind his back.

"I need you and the boys to help build some decorations for me. Nothing much, just a guillotine and stuff..."

"Oh..." Hank chuckled awkwardly and agreed to. He then shooed her out, "Okay, bye now! Gotta do thinking for work...and stuff."

He slammed the door behind her. He heard her scoff and walk away.

"That your old lady?" Ryuk said. "She's hot."

"You take that back!" Hank roared.

"Sorry, you're right; she's not hot."

"Thank you...Wait."


	5. A Clean Burning World

Author's note: Oh my god, I haven't finished any of my fanfics, and I haven't updated in, like, a year. Well, a new year, a new computer, and a new chapter. Thanks for waiting patiently, guys and girls...Yeah, who am I kidding? Thanks for waiting, girls.

Also: holy butts, I need to actually review my shit more. From chapter 2: "She [Connie] must still be bummed that your mother killed her."

Being killed would totally bum me out, too.

* * *

It was past eleven in the PM, and most of the Hill household was asleep. Hank, however, was conversing with Ryuk in his garage.

"Ryuk, you never told me," Hank began, "I always wondered, why did you choose me? Why did you give me the Death Note?"  
"I wanted some fun," Ryuk said. "A shinigami once passed through your town, to kill the owner of a Death Note and reclaim their book.

"The person killed your father by way of arranging his death, just before they died. It was after killing the owner of that book when the shinigami watched your family."  
"Oh Lord," Hank said wit a sigh. He slammed his palm against his face. "Some ghoul has been spying on me?"  
"Yes. And they were so entertained by you and your family, they told me the minute they returned to Japan."

"Where are they now?"

"Gone," Ryuk explained. "They died. No need to ask any questions."

"...Alright."

"Anyway, I decided that you might be more fun than my old friend, Light Yagami. So I took the note book and gave it to you. Hopefully, he'll find out where I am; then we can all have some fun."

Ryuk polished off his apple, then carelessly tossed the core aside. "Got any more?"

"Don't you eat anything else?" Hank scoffed. "What about a man's meal, like hamburgers or steak? You know, meat!"

"I've never had those before," Ryuk admitted.

"Really? You've never tasted meat? I'm guessing you never had the taste of something cooked with the clean-burning fuel of propane."

Ryuk shook his head.

Hank started to cook up come hamburgers. Hopefully, he could make a light snack for Ryuk without waking anybody. Ryuk had to taste the meat, not the heat.

* * *

But Peggy Hill was awake. Wrapping herself in a snug housecoat, she had snuck into the garage and started poking around.

"Where is she?" Peggy whispered. "Ladybird, come here, girl! It's time to take your ear medicine."

As Peggy silently prayed she could find Ladybird before her husband found out she forgot to give the dog her ear medicine earlier, she banged her 16 1/2 sized foot against a toolbox. She silently cursed, then picked up the toolbox.

"Damn it, Hank," she said. "Someone could trip over this."

She put the toolbox on a tabletop. She then noticed the Death Note staring her right in the face, sloppily hidden between tax receipts and a_ Sports Illustrated_. Peggy, a strange feeling overcoming her, instinctivelly grabbed the book and scanned through it.

_This is filled with names of dead people_, she thought. _Hank, that is just mordbid. Why are you doing this?_

Come to think of it, she noted Hank's odd behavior as of late: spending much of his free time hidden away, talking to himself, and staying up late at night. At first she thought he was Googling naked women online. But the thought of Hank becoming obssessed with archiving deaths seemed the more likely explanation.

"Now, with propane, you can actually taste the meat," Hank was saying. "Y'know, our motto at Strickland is 'taste the meat, not the heat.'"

Peggy gasped and stuffed the book in one of the large pockets of her housecoat. She searched around the garage for her husband. When she realized he wasn't there, she started to search for him curiously.

She found him in the back yard, grilling and talking to himself.

"I think I'll prefer to taste the apples," Ryuk said with a demented smirk.

"You'll never know until you try," Hank said.

"Hank, who are you talking to?" Peggy asked as she approached him curiously.

After some hesitation, Hank said, "The burgers."

"The burgers?"

"Yep. I, uh, wanted them to know that they're being made using an efficient and clean-burning fuel."

"I...see. And why are you cooking in the middle of the night?"

"I wanted a, uh, midnight snack. And I didn't want to wake you up from your beauty sleep, even if I'd like your cooking."

Peggy blushed. "Aw, Hank, you flatterer."

"I'll be going to bed in a minute, Peg Leg. Good night."

* * *

Peggy smiled and went back inside. She still had no idea what was going on. But in the days of people dying all around her, of uncertainty and creepiness, Hank would always be her rock. Sure, he was acting a little strangely. But he was still the same old Hank she fell in love with, right?

She was about to return the book when...she decided to hide it in her purse. Something about the book made her feel different. The book seemed to draw her in. Perhaps it was the thrill of a mystery? Maybe she wanted to find out if she could help her husband? Whatever it was, she made it her business. If she could handle being a nun, she could handle this.


	6. Taste the Innocence, not the Heat

**Author's note**: Okay, either can't space paragraphs for tits, or I just don't know how to work this site. Either way, I'll probably make this fanfic available on other sites, where it'd be easier to read.

* * *

Hank spent breakfast time searching the office frantically. Where's the Death Note? he wondered. Dang it!

Enter Peggy, clad in lime-green sleeveless shirt and blue shorts. A rather plain, aged purse clung from the strap on her shoulder.

"Something the matter, Hank?" Peggy asked.

After some hesitation, Hank responded, "Uh, have you seen a black notebook around here?"

"N-No..."

The notebook. What was so important about that stupid old thing? Peggy thought. Why was Hank so desperate for it? Well, that sounded like a great mystery for a well-read, intelligent, and beautiful woman such as herself.

"It's a very important book. I need it for work."

"I haven't seen it," Peggy said stiffly. "I'm going to work now. See ya later."

"I'll ask Bobby..."

Peggy made a quick dash outside, and to the car. She slammed the car door shut, then gave her purse a tight squeeze. Se could feel the notebook inside.

* * *

Dale examined several papers on his desk: each paper had a person's name on it. Underneath the names were scribbles of why Dale thought the person was a suspect. (Except for Bill's page - his page merely had a somewhat drawing of a muscular Dale punching him in the face.) An excerpt from Dale's twisted and disturbed mind:

_Luanne Leanne Platter Clyneshmitt_

_She must be smarter than she appears. She disliked Cotton Hill for his cheeky approach to her. May have killed Khan to appease Uncle Hank. May have killed M.F. Thatherton to frame Uncle Hank?_

_Consider her deadly. Also, ask her how to spell her married name._

His top suspects were still Peggy, Bill, and the president of the United States. It seemed to be a safe bet that the government was behind all these deaths somehow.

"Surely you have narrowed down your list of suspects?" Watari asked him.

"Weeell," Dale said in a long moan. "I think Bobby's clear. But if he tries anything funny, Joseph will kick his ass."

"Moshi moshi," Ryuzaki said. "Umi yami no kaze, nii-san."

"You sound like a weird monkey when you talk, you know that?"

"He asked why Hank Hill wan't a suspect," Watari said."He's mentioned in Luanne's and Peggy's profiles, and has a direct connection to one of the deceased persons."

Dale scribbled something down in a dark red notebook, mumbling, "nii...san, which means 'Why isn't Hank a suspect?' I assume 'Yami' is Japanese for 'Hank.'"

After a moment, Dale placed the notebook on his desk and said to the men, "Hank's a good guy. And although he's a little overbearing and naggy, he wouldn't kill anyone. Besides, it'd probably conflict with some weird propane business or something. If I asked, he'd probably just go on about clean-burning fuel."

"Puropane?" Ryuzaki asked.

"Strickland Propane's where Hank works," Dale said tersely. "Don't tell him, but I get charcoal for my grill. I have to drive out of town so he won't find out."

Watari and Ryuzaki exchanged glances.

* * *

Meanwhile, Peggy was parked in her personal parking space at the real estate office. She decided she would go into work in a few minutes, after doing some research.

These are some stupid rules, Peggy thought as she examined the notebook. The 'rules' of the Death Note were written within the first few pages of the notebook. It seems there's not a lot of room for creative or ironic deaths. Maybe I can find a way around these rules...

No. What was the thinking? She could never kill anyone...Well, she probably could. She wouldn't, but she would have the ability to kill someone to defend herself or her family. All those years on the ranch did her body good. She thought she still had the behind of a twenty-year-old, but that was neither here nor there.

"Maybe I'll write one name here," she said to herself. "Just to test it out. I mean, I doubt this notebook is real...But who?"

There was a loud, rhythmic ringing noise. Peggy dropped the book on her lap and let out a squeal in her surprise. After taking a deep breath, she searched her purse for the source of the noise. She flipped opened the cell phone and said, "Yello?"

"Peggy!" Mihn said. "Khan is going to be buried in a gold-plated coffin! I bet your husband will probably make you your own coffin or something, silly hillbilly."

Peggy now had a an idea of what to write.


	7. Charcoal

**Author's note:** This chapter was actually much longer. But I deleted it by accident and had to start over with what I remember. Hopefully the next few chapters (which will most likely move the plot along) will be longer.

* * *

The school bus let out a loud creak as it stopped in front of Bobby's house. Bobby and Joseph stepped out. The bus driver shut the doors and drove off towards its next destination.

"And my dad just started freaking out about this book," Bobby explained. "I told him I didn't know, but he didn't believe me."

"And then what happened?" Joseph asked.

"He said he had to go so he wouldn't be late for work."

The boys heard the sound of sirens, and an ambulance screeched as it passed the boys by. It immediately stopped at the Souphanousinphone residence next door.

Connie stepped out of the passenger seat up front, then waved to the driver. "Thanks, Mr. Octavio," she said.

"Connie, are you alright?" Bobby called out.

Bobby and Joseph ran up to her. On closer inspection, Bobby could see that her eyes were pink and puffy. Her cheeks had echoes of tears stained on them.

"My mom died this morning," Connie said simply. Although her voice was stiff, her eyes were slowly tearing up. "I called an ambulance and stayed with her, but it was too late..."  
"So that's why you weren't at school," Bobby said.

"I thought it was diahreahh," Joseph said. "You looked constipated yesterday."

Ignoring Joseph, Connie continued, "She died around nine o'clock. I was staying home anyway so we could co-ordinate mourning outfits and show the Wassonasongs we're grieving, but we still look really good while doing it."

Connie took a deep breath, then let out a loud sigh.

"I'm so sorry, Connie," Bobby said. "If you need somewhere to stay, I can ask my parents..."  
"I'm already moving in with some family in Los Angeles. But if you could take Doggy in, that would be great. My aunt is allergic."

"My dog said that small dogs aren't Hill dogs."  
"Oh..."

"So you're an orphan now?" Joseph asked her.

"Yes," Connie groaned.

"Sucks that your parents are dead. If I were you, I'd be crying."

Tears ran down Connie's face. "Yes," she sobbed. "You're right. Both of them are gone...!"

The little Laotian girl let out a loud scream and ran into her house. Bobby looked on sadly, then gave Joseph an austere look.

"What?" Joseph asked in an offended tone.

* * *

"Have you thought about the deal?" Ryuk asked Hank.

Hank was rustling through his desk, trying in vain to find the book. A line of customers waited outside of his office, wanting their need for propane and propane accessories to be met.

"Yes," Hank said. He oppened a shelf in his desk. "And I'm not making the deal!"

"Why not?"

"Because it'll shorten my lifespan. And I need to live as long as I can."

Hank shut the desk, then sighed. No luck finding that dang Death Note. He went on, "Just getting rid of them isn't enough. You see, jackasses are like charcoal: even when they're gone, you can still smell their awful scent. Their mistakes will be left, unless I do something."

"That's why you want to be the God of this world!"

"Yes. So I can wipe the smell of their charcoal from my planet. So the innocence can enjoy tasting the meat I have to offer, and not the heat of the idiots. I need to live long to get rid of the mistakes the idiots made, before they infect the good people."

"Bobby," Ryuk said. "I remember you telling me how impressionable he is."

"Yes," Hank said with certainty. "For him. For all children. I will get rid of all the jackasses and become a god to clean up their mess. For the children."

* * *

Ryuzaki studied Dale's papers in vain. One again, they were in the basement. He wouldn't admit it (lest he blow his cover), but he was getting a little stir-crazy from being here every day or about a week.

"That stuff is in English, so it might be a little confusing for you," Dale said to him. "Don't worry - I translated some of my works on Babelfish; you'll get them once I get new paper for the printer."

"Arigato," Ryuzaki replied.

"You're welcome...I think."

Dale picked up his notebook and skimmed through it. "No," he said. "I meant to say 'no.' There's no more candy in the house."

Watari walked down the steps and joined the duo. Before bothering with any contact, he first took a seat in a plastic folding chair.

"Did you get any new information?" Dale asked.

Watari jostled in his seat, trying to find a comfortable spot.

"Well?"

Watari finally settled. He said, "Mrs. Soup...Souphan...Kahn's wife, Mihn died this morning. Of a heart attack."

"Aha!" Dale immediatey exclaimed. "That proves it must have been Peggy!"

"Uggu?" Ryuzaki questioned. "Moshi moshi. Kawai desu ne."

"Ryuzaki wondered if he could use your bathroom again," Watari explained to Dale. "And I was wondering why this death leads to Mrs. Hill?"

"Of course he can," Dale said. "But first, let me explain. That kid needs to listen and see how a real detective thinks.

"Peggy hated Cotton. A burning hatred. So of course she would benefit if she got him out of the way!"

"What about Thatherton?" Watari asked curiously. By now he suspected Dale was a lunatic. But maybe he was on to something now.

Dale walked across the room slowly. Perhaps he was thinking? Or maybe he was trying to make his next statement seem more ramatic? But it soon became clear that he just got up to feed one of his turtles.

"Killed so she could frame her husband or her husband's boss," Dale said. "Come on, that much is obvious. Almost as obvious as Roswell being staged. But I digress."

Yeah, he was a lunatic. This was as close to sanity as Dale had ever been in the time Watari and Ryuzaki had been there. "Go on."

"Probably not Hank," Dale added. "That would lead us back to her home; she wouldn't risk that with an ace detctive living so close by."

"I see where you're going with this," Watari said, still not convinced. "But what about Kahn?"

"She probably killed Kahn because she hated him. Everybody hates Kahn."

Ryuzaki got up. "Moshi-Moshi-Mosh."

"Of course you can go to the washroom now," Dale said. "You just watched a real detective at work."

"Konbanwa."

Ryuzaki made it halfway up the stairs before Dale spoke again.

"Just one more thing," Dale said quietly. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

Ryuzaki stopped in his place.

"'Moshi moshi, kawaii desu ne,'" Dale said. "You used that line earlier. It meant something about candy."

"The sentence has dual meanings," Watari lied.

"You couldn't even keep your lines straight," Dale said. "I bet all the translations I've written down are fake, too."

Ryuzaki looked down at Dale with cold, unmoving eyes.

"Well met," he said. "You've proven yourself smarter than I thought you'd be. You've proven you're much more beyond that idiot facade; now I can drop mine. Now's the time to get serious."

"That's right!" Dale explained. "Wingo! ...Wait. I had an idiot facade?"


	8. The Real You

L was there. He kicked Hank in the face.

"Ow what was that for," Hank asked?

"Because you're kira?"  
"Get your ass out my loan, hippy."

"Okay."

So L left. L went to Dale's house and stayed there. Then they got their guns and went to Hanks again.

"Go away," said Hank as he answered the door. "I don't like you lying hippies; I don't have a Death Note."

"Okay, you do," said Dale. "Give us the book or we shoot."

So Hank gave them the book but Dale shot him! And he shot L to! Now that he had the book and was the world's greatest detective he thought, he could rule the world with his notebook.

The end


	9. A Word From Our Sponsor

You're probably wondering what became of this story. No, I'm not really going to end it just like that. Quite the opposite, in.

The story will split into two different stories - one where the Death Note anime characters get more involved, and one where they don't. Not everyone was happy aout L being included, and a few people said that they prefered having the story focus on the KOTH characters.

The story/stories will be called Death Note: The Legend of Hank Hill, I Tell You What. The first, exposition-laden chapter of the pro-anime version has been uploaded. Until next time, see ya!


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